


Do Shaitaan

by esperante



Category: Iqbal (2005)
Genre: Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, Chromatic Source Creator, Desi Character, Eid ka Chand, Gen, hinglish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-10
Updated: 2010-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esperante/pseuds/esperante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bhai holds his hands cupped together, as if around the flame of a diya, and then points to himself. He points to Khadija, and spreads his palms wide before pointing upwards, to the sky, signing for the sun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Shaitaan

“Kaju, jaldi aa jana,” Ammi says as she and Abbajaan walk into their hotel room after dinner. “Don’t stay up late again, you didn’t even study today.”

The physics and maths textbooks are buried under her clothes in the suitcase, and Khadija gags at the thought of pulling them out. She wishes she’d brought her Hindi or Telugu, or even history book – at least that would have convinced Abbajaan she was studying, even though Ammi knew she’d read thosebooks cover to cover already.

Bhai flaps his hands at them, making a ohho-let-it-go face.

“Iqbal, aise nahi. You’ll spoil her,” Abbajaan says sternly. “We came on tour with you because she promised she’ll study regularly.”

Khadija sees her brother nodding solemnly; and then making his _best _puppy-dog expression and holding out his index finger – let her be for _one _day. “I’ll make sure Khadija studies from tomorrow,” he signs, earnest as anything.

She suppresses a snort, and watches as Ammi struggles to control a smile as well. They snap back into seriousness, as Abbajaan speaks. “Achcha theek hai. Par jaldi so jaana dono! Iqbal, kal subah practice bhi hai, late nai hona.”

Bhai nods again. “Bilkul,” he signs.

“Haan abbajaan,” Khadija replies, and smiles as Ammi bends to kiss her forehead, and reaches up to kiss Bhai’s.

_Finally!_, she and Bhai sigh exaggeratedly, as Ammi and Abbajaan close the door to their room.

“How are you so good at this?” Khadija asks him as they settle on the sofa in Bhai’sroom. “Kaise manaa lete ho? I can never manage!”

Bhai grins and pops his collar, waggling his eyebrows. Khadija rolls her eyes.

“Mujhe bhi draame-baazi sikha kar jaate. I really miss you at home when I need to get out of trouble.”

“Achcha! So you don’t miss me otherwise?” Bhai signs, mock-outraged, but laughs good naturedly. “Okay now tell me why he's being so tough.”

“I already told you! He thinks I'm watching too many movies... Since we've stopped naming calves after your teammates, I named Harbhajan's new ones Salman, Aamir and Shahrukh, and Abbajaan was _so _angry,” Khadija sighs, and Bhai laughs and laughs till she hits him to shut him up.

Bhai holds his ears in apology even as he laughs, and puts an arm around her. He snatches up the room service menu and holds it up.

“Nahi, bhookh nahi hai.”

He points to the french fries, and does a thumbs-up, coaxing her. He does this a lot, whenever they go to a new place.

“Nahi, bhai! Just because you’re famous now doesn’t mean we can waste food!”

Bhai tips his chin at her. “_I _can do anything I want!” he signs, loftily. Khadija sticks her tongue out at him.

It's okay to do things like this with Bhai, even though she is older now. He would stick his tongue out too, and ruffle her hair. Bhai has been in the team for two years, but he hasn’t changed much. Ammi says that it is thanks to Mohit sir that fame hasn't gone to his head, but Khadija honestly can’t picture him being any other way.

Khadija has told herself to get used to Bhai’s life, and not be so excited about little things like room service and hotels and roaring stadiums, or billboards that have her brother posing on them and her classmates who ask for his autograph and the possibility that they may a_ctually _go to England for the world cup! Bhai did saythat England was nothing like in the beautiful picture books he brought back for her, but _still._

She flops back on to the cushions. If she wanted strawberry ice-cream _right now_, she could call up the room service number and they would give her ice-cream with real strawberries on it, she thinks idly.

The first time she’d eaten a real strawberry, Khadija was shocked by its tart sourness, and then she just couldn’t stop eating them. Ammi’s face had fallen when she saw the box was finished. She didn’t say anything and Khadija felt _so _guilty, but Bhai brought them another box in the evening, and ruffled Khadija’s hair.

“Sharing is caring,” he’d signed at her, wagging his finger just like Sudha miss did in school, and she’d hugged him so fiercely that it had knocked the breath out of him

“I want to be famous too,” she sighs to herself. Bhai nudges her shoulder and makes her say it again, more clearly. “But I’m not good at anything.”

“You can be a famous writer… You tell very good stories,” Bhai signs. “Or you can be a famous reader! Most number of books read in the world – guinness world record!”

“What will I write about?” Khadija replies, despairing. “The adventures of prince Iqbal and his team? Khadija and the King of Samcherapalli? The case of the missing ruby necklace? I don’t know.”

“I think you should write all of those books. Anam khala will love the last one.”

Khadija makes a face at that. “But I’m not _good _at writing, bhai!” she says, signing furiously. “Not like you are so good at cricket. Everyone says you’re the best bowler in the world right now. No one will say that about me! I’m not the best at anything!”

Bhai is still for a minute, and then he taps his wrist. “It takes time.”

“And I’m stuck doing maths sums! Mujhe nai karna geometry! It’s so useless!” she wails, and Bhai laughs as he holds up his hands in helplessness.

After a moment, he put his hands on Khadija’s shoulders, dipping his head till she meets his eyes.

“You’re already the best sister in the world,” he signs, and Khadija’s eyes sting with sudden tears.

Bhai holds his hands cupped together, as if around the flame of a diya, and then points to himself. He points to Khadija, and spreads his palms wide before pointing upwards, to the sky, signing for the sun.

“You are so smart and so good. You can do anything you want,” he signs, and rubs a closed fist over his heart. “I believe in you, and I’ll support you.”

“Pakka?” she asks, signing it as she clears her throat.

“Promise. You can be a pilot or prime minister or farmer. Even if you want to be an IPL cheerleader --”

“BHAI!”

He laughs uproariously, and cowers as she scrambles to beat him up, or at least hit him anywhere she can.

Later, Bhai makes her order a 'banana split' from room service, excitedly refusing to tell her what exactly it is. When it finally arrives, Khadija can feel her eyes stretching wide.

“It’s like a dream,” she murmurs. It's probably too hard for Bhai to lip-read, but he cackles anyway at her expression.

It's a big plate full of icecream -- ice creams! chocolate, vanilla _and _strawberry! -- and a _banana_! Bhai elbows her and puts a spoon in her hand.

Poking her till she tears her eyes away from the plate, Bhai signs, grinning “Only strawberry for you!”

Even so, Khadija feels crackers of happiness bursting inside her.

When Ammi steps in to check on them, they’re already halfway through, but Bhai pulls out his most amazing pleading-face and she joins in.

“Tum dono shaitaan!” Ammi starts signing, but she can’t scold them, especially after Bhai offers her the little red cherry on top, making Khadija grin inwardly at just how  _good _he is at this.

The three of them sit and talk for a while, just like they used to at home while waiting for Abbajaan to come back from the fields. She blows a kiss at Bhai as she and Ammi leave the room; and he grins and hugs her back tight, like he did every night.

Turning over her pillow to get more comfortable in the extra bed, Khadija wonders what to be when she grows up. Whatever it is, she decides, she has to be the best at it, just like Bhai. Maybe it wouldn't make her famous, and not even make her rich; and maybe it wouldn't open up new worlds for her family, but nothing less than the best would do. She'll ask Ammi for ideas in the morning, she thinks, and falls asleep to the tune of Abbajaan's snores.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to dhobikikutti for suggestions and feedback! All remaining mistakes are mine. Constructive criticism is welcome!
> 
> Dedicated to K, whose goodness is inspiring.
> 
> word count: 1363


End file.
